


After the Day is Done

by Righ Saunders (owlrigh)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-13
Updated: 1999-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlrigh/pseuds/Righ%20Saunders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafe is in love and has an episode with Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Day is Done

**Author's Note:**

> Ta to Mama Deb and Rusty for the beta of this version of the story. The other version will never see the light of day. It's being posted (finally!)
> 
> Author's disclaimer: Not mine, I'm borrowing, but should they ever come up in auction ...

Rafe looked up from the page he was reading. _He_ walked in with Sandburg, stopping at their desk. As Jim moved, Rafe's eyes became glued to his body, noticing every flex. Heat rose within him as he tuned out the noise in favor of the view before him. 

"Ellison!" came Simon's familiar growl from the office. Rafe snapped his eyes away, guiltily pretending that he hadn't been staring. As he did so, he caught Sandburg's eye. Sandburg was looking at him, a surprised look on his face. Rafe flushed. 

As he turned his attention back to the sheaf of papers, he was aware of Sandburg making his way across the room towards him. He quickly put them down and stood up. Now would be a good time to take a rest-break. He casually walked across the room, making for the restrooms. 

He stared at his face in the mirror, ignoring the curious looks from the other occupants of the room. He ran water, scooping some up to his face with shaking hands. Sandburg hadn't guessed. No. Surely not. He stood there, seeing neither his own reflection nor that of Jim. 

"Rafe?" came _his_ voice from behind. He swung around quickly, facing Jim. Sandburg must have said something! Jim's blue eyes bored into Rafe's. "Are you alright?" 

Rafe nearly sagged in relief as he saw nothing but mild concern in those eyes. Not disgust. Not anger. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes," more strongly. 

"Okay," Jim shot him a look before striding to one of the cubicles. Rafe let out a long sigh. He didn't see Jim's back stiffen slightly before he began moving again. 

* * *

The night was fast approaching, and still he had not finished doing his report. Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Rafe leaned back in his chair and stretched. Bloody report-work! He cracked his neck and bent over the desk again. A noise disrupted him from his concentration. Looking up, he saw nothing, but his attention was no longer on the report. Across the room he could see where Jim had forgotten his jacket. The one that fitted him so perfectly that it sculpted his body lines in a way that ought to be banned. 

His arousal began to stir as he remembered seeing Jim wear it during the day. He took his hands from the keyboard and shifted slightly, gaining access to his pants. Sliding his hands down himself, he opened the zipper and cupped himself, watching images of Jim inside his closed eyes. 

Sighing, he wrapped his hand about his cock and thought of Jim standing in front of him, that beautiful body naked for him to look at. He would dance for him, body undulating in the music, hands sliding over his well-oiled body. His breathing came faster as the fantasy progressed. He saw in his mind's eye Jim take hold of himself while their eyes held fast, and slowly move as he mouthed 'Rafe'. The tension within him grew, and he gasped as he came warmly over his hand. 

Panting, he sprawled in his chair, eyes closed. He didn't see the door close quietly. 

* * *

Walking into the squad room the next morning, he spotted Jim and Sandburg together once more. Jealousy struck him as he looked on and saw them touch. NO. He took two steps towards them, and then saw Sandburg look up. Not at him, but the effect was like a splash of cold water. He stopped and went towards his own desk, ignoring the pang of hurt within at their easy intimacy. 

The day passed slowly, with Jim called away. Sandburg was doing the paperwork; it soothed something in him to see them apart, not together when he could not be with Jim. Jim was straight, despite those persistent rumors of something closer than friendship between him and Blair. You could see that there wasn't. Being gay let you see things that others would normally not. Theirs was an intimacy of friendship, not lovers, yet he was still jealous. 

During the day he saw Sandburg dart curious looks his way, looks that he studiously avoided. He didn't want to know what Blair thought of him, of his attraction, his love for Jim. But even that would not stop a persistent Sandburg, and the next thing Rafe knew Blair was staring at him in surprise. 

"I saw how you were looking at Jim yesterday," Blair repeated. He looked Rafe over slowly. 

Rafe swallowed. "How was I looking at him? I didn't realise that I was looking at him in any particular way," he lied. 

Sandburg looked at him scornfully. "Yeah, right. If that's how you normally look at guys, I'm surprised that you haven't had your face punched in a few times." 

He reddened. So he had noticed. "Uh ..." 

"So why haven't you done anything about it?" Blair carried on, seemingly oblivious to Rafe's spluttering. 

"Because Jim doesn't seemed interested," he rushed. A minor understatement. He cringed at thinking about how long he'd be in hospital after making a pass at Ellison. 

Blair leaned forward. "Jim's bi, you know," he confided. Rafe blinked at him, hearing the words but not registering them. When they did, he blinked at Blair again, those rumors coming to mind and his heart sinking. He looked away, the promise of tears stinging his eyes. 

He must have transmitted his distress because Blair hastened to reassure, "We're not together, man! I'm not into guys. Jim's _so_ not my type." 

Hope resurged and he looked back at Blair, eyes shining. Sandburg smiled at him. "Jim and I are going to this new bar this evening. Care to come along?" The invitation left him hanging. How could he say yes? How could he say no? 

"Yes," slipped out before he could take it back. A night out with Jim! Happiness rose within him and he straightened his clothing. Blair laughed quietly at his unconscious grooming. Pulling out a pen, he scribbled on a piece of paper on Rafe's desk. Directions. 

"Catch you at six in the El Dorado, Rafe." 

* * *

The bar was full, people mingling freely. He tugged at his clothing as he entered further. He spied Sandburg talking animatedly with some people, and walked over. His heart clenched at seeing Jim, watching his partner talk. Two women sat near them, both focused on Blair. As he neared, he caught the what Sandburg was talking about. Mating rituals of a tribe in whats-its. Sounded boring. His eyes feasted on Jim, who was oblivious to his admirer. Rafe could feel himself harden at seeing him. 

Drink in hand he came closer, smiling at the women and Blair before turning to Jim. He couldn't help it, he felt his body strain across the gap, and his smile became decidedly warmer. Jim looked at him for a moment before turning away. His smile faltered. 

Taking a large gulp, he focused upon a couple entering the bar. He pretended not to feel the hurt and began to talk to the red-head. He could not hear what he was saying; he could have been talking about the prices of rice and wheat in Africa for all that he knew. 

Excusing himself time and again, he was always with a drink in hand. He should not have come. Any conversation he initiated with Jim inevitably petered out as he ended up staring at Jim's eyes. 

Eventually, though, he heard Sandburg say as if from a distance "..take Rafe home." He looked around at the mention of his name. Blair and Jim were together talking. He frowned as he tried to make more out, but it was not coming through to his ears properly. He turned back to the nice-looking guy he'd been talking to, but he had disappeared. He shrugged, making his way to the bar. He'd been no match for Jim anyway. 

As he reached the bar, a hand caught his arm. Not being able to shake it off, he turned to find Jim holding onto him. He couldn't help his immediate reaction to Jim's nearness. He turned slightly into him, his body receptive. 

"Come on, I'm taking you home," Jim said roughly. He maneuvered Rafe around and for the door, who followed his directives unresistingly. 

He noticed that they were getting into Jim's truck, and that Blair was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Sandburg?" he asked fuzzily. 

"Taking his own car," came the answer. He dropped the subject. 

Sitting in the truck while they zoomed along, Rafe kept taking sneak peeks at Jim. He liked what he saw very much. He forgot not to stare, and ended up soaking in his features the rest of the way. 

Suddenly they stopped, and Jim was out of the truck. He got out unsteadily, then was once again guided, this time to his front door. He dug his keys out, and seeing the impatient hand outstretched, dropped them into it. His door was opened quickly, and then Jim helped him inside. His legs were somewhat unsteady, and he seemed to find walls that would not stay in the places they were meant to. Jim took him to the sofa, where he helped him sit down. 

Rafe looked up at the handsome face before him, and did not let go. He pulled Jim down onto him, and crushed his lips against the ones so near to his own. Jim stiffened but then responded slightly. Rafe took advantage and slid his hand down Jim's torso and placed his hand over the hardening bulge. Wanting to touch him, to feel him, he fumbled with the fastening of the jeans before sliding his hand over hard flesh. Jim jerked, his lips covering his even harder, devouring him. He leaned into it, taking pleasure in the hard hands moving over him, working at the buttons on Jim's shirt. They didn't come off quickly enough and it tore. 

Pulling away, he grabbed Jim and shoved him onto the sofa. He kissed his way down Jim's throat, tongue darting and making tiny bites. He kissed them to soothe the little welts he was making, all the while stripping Jim slowly of his clothing. Soon he lay there, penis jutting proudly, his hands grabbing for Rafe as he tried to stand up. Failing, he fell back into Jim. Guttural sounds appeared from his throat, and Rafe found himself suddenly divested of clothing. He sprawled on Jim, feeling his cock slide against the warm body and the other man's slide against him. 

"Where do you have your stuff?" Jim's voice was hoarse. Pointing mutely in the direction of his bedroom, he found himself scooped up and carried into the bedroom. He was placed on the bed to look up at the magnificent man before him. He could not believe his luck. 

Jim fell upon him. Hungry lips latched onto his cock, sucking and making him mad. Drunk on the sight of his cock in Jim's mouth, he moaned rawly. Suddenly he felt a finger at his entrance, slowly moving its way in. It probed, moving around, and then suddenly it hit _there_ and he shivered in unconstrained delight. Lost in the sea of sensation, he could feel himself being prepared. Fingers were slowly scissoring in him, lube making him ready. 

"You ready?" came Jim's voice from above him. Rafe nodded frantically. Holding his arms, Rafe felt and saw Jim take him from the front. With the fullness of Jim's cock within him, tears rose in his eyes. He was being taken by the man he loved. Jim began to move, and Rafe's cock twitched as Jim hit his prostate. Jim's movements became more frantic, and he began slamming in and out of his ass. Taking hold of himself, Rafe stroked in time to his movements, cresting the wave. 

Slumping wearily, Jim slid out of him and onto the side of the bed. Rafe lay up beside him, sated and happy. Nearing sleep, he felt the warm body curl around him, and he drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

Rafe awoke to an empty bed. His hand slid across the sheets, vaguely aware that he had had company last night. Company! His eyes shot open and scanned the room. Getting up slowly, aware of a dull ache in the lower regions, he grabbed for the gray robe nearby. Twisting the cord into a knot, he slowly opened the door and walked into the kitchen. No sign of _him_. 

He sat down in one of the chairs. "Shit." He buried his face in his hands, elbows on the table. "I love him, I've fucked this up royally. _Shit_." 

Drowned in his misery, he didn't hear the footsteps falter behind him. Nor the door shut quietly. 

* * *

End

 


End file.
